Twice A Month
by HauntedSilver
Summary: Lydia really hates being a werewolf, and Stiles really hates being a fake boyfriend. Stilydia two-shot. Takes place before Party Guessed, only Lydia is not immune.


**A/N: So, Lydia's not a werewolf. But if she was, that opens up some major Stilydianess. Or at least I think so, because Stilydia is my Teen Wolf OTP. And one of my top OTPs of all time :D**

Did anyone else notice that Stiles has never had a shirtless scene? In fact, in Ice Pick they even used the locker to block possible shirtless scenes. I think Dylan O'Brien just missed signing the shirtless contract and now he's (unfortunately) not allowed to be shirtless on TV. And I know he wants to, because he talked about it in an interview.  


**This actually will be a two-shot. I didn't just forgot the 'Complete' button this time. **

**Dedicated to Peacegirl2312, because she's waited like a month for this.**

~~~~L~~~~

"Bye, Lydia!" Her mom waves from out the door.

Lydia scowls, clicking the lock in place on the door of my piece-of-crap jeep. She shoots me a glare. "I can't believe I have to pretend you're my boyfriend because of this."

I try not to wince. Being her fake-boyfriend is a lot harder and more confusing than just trying to be her real one. "Do you know anyone else with chains and a basement for the full moon?"

Her frown deepens, but she still looks beautiful. "No," Lydia sighs and leans back in her seat. I know she's just angry because she's stuck being a werewolf now. Scott used to complain all the time, and it was hard enough already. Besides, I can tell Lydia is starting to trust me, and I'm already pretty sure she doesn't trust anyone.

"What does your dad even think you do with them?" Lydia's staring at me now and I force myself to look at the road.

"Well, Uh...he's usually out on the full moon and the night before, so that's not really a problem."

She looks me over critically. "Doesn't he ever just find the chains in your basement?"

I'm not sure why she's asking all these questions. Since when was she curious about anyone? Lydia prefers to make her own assumptions about people. Maybe she's just waiting for me to say something stupid. Maybe it's the full moon.

"I don't know if my dad remembers that we even have a basement." I say, pulling up in my driveway. I never would have taken my jeep in to get it fixed if I'd known it would be taken in for evidence and then take this long to get back. Maybe it's my ADHD, but I wonder if Lydia knows this car killed a man (with the help of Jackson/the lizard thing).

I jump out and pull open her door, which still makes her scowl. Lydia takes my hand anyway and lets me lead her to the basement. She sits down by the wall, pouting at me —oh my god, she's even beautiful when she pouts— and surrounded by piles of chains. Carefully, I crouch next to her and click the handcuff in place on her wrist.

"Does that hurt?"

Lydia bypasses the question. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" I ask, hooking the length of chain to the wall and doubling it over so she can't get very far. Then I grab another chain and clip it to her other wrist.

"Helping me." She studies me carefully. I feel like I'm drowning in her green eyes.

You know why. "Because if I don't you'll be running rampant and killing people," I try. It sounds like a question.

Lydia purses her lips. I can tell she doesn't believe me. "Fine." She leans her head against the wall as I click the other chain in place. There's still more pooling on the floor, but I don't really feel like chaining up her feet. I sit back on my heels.

"Can you pull your arm a little? Just to see if it works."

Lydia glares at me, but yanks her arm anyway. The chain doesn't lose any ground. Good.

"Okay. Do you want anything? Are you thirsty? We have some Mountain Dew if you—"

"I'm fine." Lydia spits back, stretching out her legs and trying —unsuccessfully— to cross her arms.

"Well, if you're good, then I'll just..." I gesture behind me and start walking backwards to the stairs.

"Wait!" Lydia calls, stopping me in my tracks. I glance up (probably with a hopeful-puppy expression, but let's ignore that). She glances around, like she's trying to find something else to say. "It's just...this is my first full moon—"

"Second," I correct, even though she was by herself then, running around and attacking people.

"Second." Lydia repeats. Her voice is like an icicle: cold and hard and jagged and as effective as any knife. "And I just...I don't want to be...alone." She admits; and suddenly narcissistic, guarded Lydia looks vulnerable. Lydia meets my eyes. "Stay."

I nod, because there's a lump in my throat and if I try to say anything I'll probably say something really, really stupid.

We sit in awkward silence for a long time. Lydia stares at me the whole time, looking annoyed.

"Are you sure you want me here?"

"Well, if you really want to leave..." Lydia lowers her voice, leaning towards me. I lick my lips. She knows just how to play me.

Lydia makes an annoyed grunting sound as my chains lock her in place. "Fine, go."

"Um, if you're really sure—"

"Go! I don't need you." Lydia glares at me like I've betrayed the little trust she offered me. I guess locking her in Scott's house didn't really make her any more attracted to me.

"Lydia..."

She glances away, wriggling in her pile of chains and trying to get comfortable. I wince at the sound. My dad will probably be home soon, and if he hears that he'll investigate.

"Shh," I hush her. Lydia turns her green eyes into lasers and aims them at me.

"Are you the one who has to be chained up twice a month?"

I sigh. Anything I say can be turned against me. "No. But I don't really want to know what my dad would do if he found out I had a girl chained up in my basement."

Lydia purses her lips and raises her eyebrows, but doesn't say anything. She probably has a good comeback up her sleeve though.

Either way, it's a bad idea to have a werewolf mad at you on the full moon.

~~~¥~~~

This was a bad, really bad, horrible idea.

I jerk back as Lydia —does this even count as being Lydia? I mean, it's not like she's in control— snarls at me, yanking on her chains like the most important thing in the world is killing me.

"Shit!" I curse, scrambling backwards and looking for something to use as defense.

Lydia lashes at me with her right hand —now heavily armored in claws— and growls.

It's going to be a long night.

~~D~~

"Stiles? Stiles? Stiles!"

I snap awake to the sound of Lydia's voice. She's leaning against the wall, her arms weighed down with chains.

"I'm hungry, take me home."

"Right," I say, rubbing my eyes. "I'll do that...what time is it?"

"How would I know?" Lydia snaps, slowly and coldly. "I've been chained in your basement all night!"

"Sorry!" I call, grabbing my car keys and then unlocking her chains. It's 5:30 (don't even ask me how she got up that early, Lydia's more of the "five more minutes" type) so we have plenty of time before her mom notices she's gone.

"Do you want me to walk you to your door, or—" I stop short at the look Lydia's giving me.

"I have to sneak in my window. There's no door to walk to." She kicks open the jeep door before I can get to it and creeps around the side of her house. I hear her mumble something about front doors and kissing.

"Okay, I'll stay here." I say. I wait until I'm sixty-seven percent sure she's inside before I drive off.

~I~

"Guess what?" Lydia demands, sliding into place across from me at our lunch table. Allison can't sit with us anymore, so Lydia usually sits with her (although she sometimes 'blesses us with her presence').

I study Lydia carefully. She's actually smiling, which is weird. In fact, in all the classes I've had with her she's been noticeably cheery. I'm pretty sure Allison noticed too, because she keeps shooting Lydia weird looks. Hell, even Scott's noticed.

"You decided that you're going to throw a party and I'm invited?" I try, shoveling fries into my mouth.

"No." Lydia says, giving me her usual cold-blooded, sixty-percent evil look. "They're serving ice cream in the cafeteria!"

"And?" Scott asks, anxiously staring over at the spot where Allison is sitting by herself. He glances at Lydia like he's going to ask her to sit with Allison, but I shoot him the most intimidating look I have.

"I love ice cream." Lydia narrows her eyes at him, scooping a spoonful of vanilla ice cream into her mouth. "Stiles, you're walking me to class."

I nod dumbly. She's never needed anyone to walk her anywhere. She usually has her own personal entourage. But ever since the whole woods thing she has been getting a lot less attention. It looks like we're the only friends she has left, and I don't think she would want to walk alone.

We eat silently for the rest of lunch; then Lydia passes me her tray to put away and grabs my hand, leading me down the hall. Math next: Lydia's favourite subject, and one of my worst. Math should be easy, but it's not great on my ADHD.

Instead of dragging me to math class, Lydia pulls me down a different hall. It's empty, which is weird. The trophy hall, I think.

"What about math?" I ask, because I have no idea what's going on. Lately, it's safer to always be on guard.

Lydia leans back against the space beside the trophy case so she's facing me, still gripping my hand. "I thought we'd skip it." Even though her back's pressed to the wall, her face is still eased in my direction.

Why would Lydia skip math? The first answer that pops into my head is that she wants to spend time with me. That's totally irrational, of course, but I can't help wishing it was true. Honestly, it's probably the full moon. Maybe she's not feeling well and wants to skip. Either way, it can't actually be me.

"Why?" I finally say, but my eyes can't leave her lips.

Lydia glares at me, like 'are you really that slow?'. I can't tear my gaze away from her. She's holding my hand, the way she hasn't since the Formal.

"Because I want to," She replies, but her voice is like a growl from deep in her throat.

"Oh." I feel really stupid right now. That dumb guy that can never be enough for the perfect girl.

That's basically the story of my life, only I'm the hyperactive guy.

Lydia lunges at me all of a sudden, releasing my hand and locking her lips with mine. I'm too surprised to do anything as her fingers tangle around my neck.

It feels good. Impossibly good. This can't be happening, but it is, and I should just stop thinking and enjoy it while it lasts.

I wrap my arms around her waist, yanking her as close to me as I can. I'm acting on all instinct.

Lydia has a lot more experience than me. She pulls back to the wall so I'm crushing her even closer. Her arms lock tighter, pulling my head down so she can kiss me harder. Lydia's elbows are locked around my neck now instead of her fingers. I make a moaning sound against her lips and lock one hand tighter around her waist; tangling the other in her beautiful, strawberry blonde hair. She bites my lip.

I pull back for breath, staring at her in amazement. She kissed me. The girl I love just freaking kissed me. I just made out with the hottest girl in school.

Lydia's giving me an almost predatory smile, barely catching her breath. I can't take not kissing her for much longer, and before I know it my lips are traveling down her neck. Lydia buries her face against my collarbone, holding me against her.

Lydia, Lydia, Lydia. That's all I can care about right now. Her lips and her eyes and her hair and her body.

I trail my lips back up her neck. Lydia shifts and captures my lips again. I feel like I've never breathed until now. Lacrosse could never measure up to her.

Lydia really must be crushed against the wall now, but she doesn't seem to care. She pulls me against her, running her fingers through my short hair and down my neck. I don't want to stop. I want to kiss her forever.

A


End file.
